It now came to him with an added thrill how well she had told her story; simply and directly, no skipping, no wandering hither and yon: from the first hour she could remember, to the night she had fled in the proa, a clear sustained narrative. ‘Odd sort of a nun. She kept trying to shut her legs, to stop the baby from coming out. There was little fighting spirit here. Ann Veronica realized that she was alone with the world. What he needed was not a food but a flavour; and the cocoanut taste of the chestnuts soothed his burning tongue and throat.
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